


pretend to be [fine]

by 4beit



Category: Charlie's Angels (2019), Charlie's Angels (Movies)
Genre: Dealing With Trauma, F/F, Flashbacks, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4beit/pseuds/4beit
Summary: the first time you realise someone else in the room with you you’re lashing out a wild fist in their direction. a hand catches your wrist and a voice cuts through the fog“hey,”you know that voice.“hey, hey, elena.”sabina.
Relationships: Sabina Wilson & Elena Houghlin & Jane Kano, sabina wilson/elena houghlin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 214





	pretend to be [fine]

before being shipped out to the townsend agencies equivalent of bootcamp you discover there’s mandatory rest and recovery – in chicago of all places. it’s not that you don’t appreciate the chance to breathe and let your bruises fade, but after probably the most insane week of your life, sitting still is difficult. you find yourself haunted by ralph’s last words to you, the shine in his eyes as he began to fry from the inside out. you killed him, and as much as sabina has pushed you not to take on that kind of responsibility you feel directly accountable for his demise. 

you see his face in the darkness, in the shadows of your room in the penthouse. even sleeping with the lamp on doesn’t help, his angry words seep into your dreams. ralph has become one of the many nightmare-ish figures that haunts your sleep. you’re trapped, watching him die again and again. but even that torture is favourable to the monster that hodak has become. he is dead, jane saw to that – but in your dreams he is alive and he’s curling that gold-plated leash around his hand. in your nightmares you are left choking, fighting against the solid metal around your neck. in your nightmares he drags you into the shadows. he drags you towards a far more terrible fate than fooling idiot bad guys with your ability to type quickly. 

panic pushes you to half-consciousness. you’re struggling against bonds that aren’t there, grabbing for a collar that’s long since been taken off. 

it’s the middle of the night and you wake up sweating, trembling. you’re not actively screaming but your throat aches in the way that tells you it’s happened already. as you’re fumbling for a lamp that’s already on, you send your phone crashing to the floor and the noise startles you further. you can feel the pounding of your heart deep in your chest and the thick band that has curled around your ribs tightens notch by notch. you’re gasping, pressing your palm into the sharp corner of the bedside table, as if that will break through this panic. the pinpoint pain helps, it grounds you, but it can only do so much. 

hot tears sear your cheeks as they fall, and you curl deeper under the covers. the sheet tangled around your legs tightens and in the mist of your half-conscious state the panic continues to trap you. held captive by the nightmares of a different reality you don’t notice your bedroom door swing open. you don’t notice the figure slip into the room, a shadow hallowed by the hallway light. you don’t hear their footsteps across the space towards you. 

the first time you realise someone else in the room with you you’re lashing out a wild fist in their direction. a hand catches your wrist and a voice cuts through the fog 

“hey,” 

you know that voice. 

“hey, hey, elena.” 

sabina. 

“it’s me. it’s me.” she continues speaking, her fingers loose around your wrist as her other hand catches your jaw lightly “you’re okay.” she says. 

you see her, half sitting on the bed, half kneeling on the floor. she’s dressed in gym clothes and there’s a sheen of sweat across her forehead that tells you you’re not the only one having trouble sleeping. 

“sabina.” you say, voice thin in the dark “sabina.” you repeat, shifting over so she can sit properly on the bed “i’m sorry.” 

you’re looking down, looking away as an overwhelming sense of embarrassment starts to replace the fear. yet sabina’s hands are gentle and she waits until your breathing has started to settle before she says “you have nothing to be sorry for.” her words are soft in the darkness and sabina tangles her fingers with yours. 

“i distracted you from,” you gesture to her attire “your, yoga, or something.” 

“please,” sabina says, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth “you think i do yoga at four am? you didn’t distract me. i was heading to a shower and,” she trails off. 

“heard me freaking out.” you supply.

“we’ve all been there.” sabina says and she glances over at you “you can talk about it, you know. probably should talk about with someone. doesn’t have to be me. but,” sabina shrugs. 

you run a hand through your hair, debating for long seconds before finally taking a chance and starting to speak “it’s just dreams.” you say, keeping your gaze fixed on the shadow cast by your phone still on the ground “nightmares is probably a better way to describe them.” you say “but, i keep seeing ralph. hodak.” a chill descends down your spine even as you say his name. 

it’s a visceral reaction, one you cannot stop nor hide, and sabina notices. she notices too, the dark bruising along your neck. for the past days you’ve managed to keep it hidden with sweatshirts and scarves, but here in the half-dark of your room the bruise stands dark and poignant. you feel her eyes on you, can feeling her putting together that the shape on your neck is not the distinct bruising of fingers. 

with her free hand sabina reaches out and traces the outline with her fingertips “hodak did this?” she asks. 

you nod, still unable to look at her “yeah.” you say, voice thick “before, before he brought me into the other room with john,” you pause – the memory alive in your mind. 

you remember him walking into the room, his appearance instigating a shot of fear directly into your veins. it had only gotten worse once you saw what was in his hand. the fucking collar. sure, you had stood your ground for all of a second, but in the end he still got that _thing_ around your neck. he still jerked you around like you were his property. 

“easy,” sabina says, “you’re okay.” 

you cough, blink and bite you lip in an attempt to chase the tears away. 

it doesn’t work. 

the tears well in your eyes and a sob rises in your throat “i don’t,” you start “i don’t-“ you try again but sabina squeezes your hand. 

“you don’t have to explain.” she says “not if you’re not ready too.” sabina lets out a gentle sigh “but keeping it to yourself, hiding the worst parts of how this job affects us, it’s not healthy. took me a long time to realise talking about all the shit we did was a good thing. granted, less people liked me, so i had less options. but eventually bosley convinced me that keeping it all to myself was a terrible idea. she was right.” 

you swallow hard “you guys seem so,” you pause and search for the right words “well-adjusted to it all.” 

sabina laughs at that, her laugh clear and bright in the dark “sure,” she says “all of us, a well-adjusted bunch. have you seen jane? she only just started trusting in the concept of teamwork again. and i’m not everyone’s first peak for a team, but we can’t do this alone. not out in the field, and not back here. all the recovery and rest is just as important as being in the field.” 

you sit in silence for long second, encouraged by sabina’s presence next to you and her hand still caught with yours. she is patient without being persistent. time slips past where the world is nothing more than her hand in yours and the racing of your heart you know her words are true, yet the prospect of admitting what haunts you makes your stomach turn. part of you knows, however, that sabina wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be. she wouldn’t be holding your hand if you didn’t if she didn’t want to be. 

you fous on her touch, on her breathing in the dark. she is real and present. hodak is dead and gone. 

that truth gives you strength. 

when you finally find the words, they’re wavering and vulnerable “it was the collar thing i had on when you found me.” you exhale, desperate to forget the sadistic pleasure in hodaks eyes as he sat you down on the couch, as he secured the collar around his neck “hodak put it on me.” 

sabina tenses, her breathing caught in her chest. her reaction takes you by surprise. from the corner of your eye you see her face steady with concern. she betrays nothing of what about your explanation has startled her. 

“he did it for no reason. he could have just used a gun to get me where he wanted me.” you continue, forcing yourself to hold onto the strength sabina’s presence has given you “but he put that thing on me and,” you close your eyes, “he didn’t do anything. not beyond drag me around, but it was so,” you shudder and trail off, unable to continue. 

you could describe the sensation, if pressed; but you have no desire to give words to that fear. sabina speaks, pulling you away from the rabbit hole of your own thoughts. 

“fuck him.” she says with uncharacteristic venom in her voice, her hand squeezing your gently “he got what was coming to him.” 

“he’s in my nightmares.” you admit “i can’t, every night since we got here, he’s been in my dreams. it’s what he could have done and,” you shake your head. 

“in that moment he had all the cards.” sabina says “and he was fucking good at his job. you were trapped. it’s terrifying to feel that sort of fear, it sticks with you.” she says, and there’s a ghost in her voice you can’t ask about just yet “going to training will help with that.” she says “they teach you all kinds of crazy shit. how to disarm people with nothing but a pencil, that kind of stuff.” 

“have you ever used that?” 

sabina shakes her head “i don’t carry pencils around like that. it’s easier just to punch someone in the face.” 

you laugh and rom the corner of your eye you catch sabrina grinning “come on,” she says, standing. 

“where are we going?” you ask, standing with her. 

“to watch movies.” sabina says

“at four thirty in the morning?” you ask, unable to refrain from being sceptical. 

sabina nods “we’ll go get jane and watch movies and sleep on the couch because fuck it, we saved the world.” 

“will jane be awake?” 

sabina nods “she’s one of those weirdos that only needs like four hours sleep a night. she’s probably cleaning her guns, but that can wait. call this team bonding.” 

the last dregs of nightmare induce tension fade as sabina says that, and you’re struck with a question “once i graduate, or pass training or whatever you call it, will we get to work together?” 

“oh,” sabina starts and for a moment you prepare for heartbreak “jane and i have already called dibs.” she says turning and giving you a megawatt grin “bosley knows, she agrees. you’re ours.” 

“oh good.” you say, unable to keep the relief from your voice. 

“did you think we were gonna ditch you?” sabina asks, her hand still tangled with yours. 

you shrug “maybe. i don’t know. training takes a while. you might save someone else.” 

“sure, we might save someone else. but they’re not going to be you. you’re the missing piece.” 

“missing piece?” you ask. 

“to have a team that works well you need to have different people who have different specialties. you ever see that show leverage?” 

you shake your head. 

“good show,” sabina says “you should definitely watch it. but basically, i’m good at the grifting, getting people to keep their attention on me. that gives jane a chance to do what she does best. but we can’t do our jobs without someone like you and your tech skills.” 

“you mean you’re not recruiting me for my prowess in krav maga?” you ask, feigning confusion. 

sabina snorts “no.” she says, pausing outside jane’s door “hate to break that to you.” she knocks hard three times “i know you’re awake in there jane. elena and i want to watch movies.” 

silence. 

not even the sound of footsteps across hardwood floor. 

“i will pick the lock to your room.” sabina threatens, and jane must believe her because moments later, the door swings open. 

“it’s four forty-five in the morning.” jane says, surveying you both. 

her gaze catches on the bruising at your neck. her gaze lingers. 

sabina notices and she, easily and without hesitation says “it’s a good thing you killed hodak.” jane blinks, and opens her mouth to say something, but sabina plows on “now, movies and cuddling on the couch.” 

for half a second it seems as if jane will find an excuse to disappear back into her room, but then she smiles “fine.” she says “i vote blue planet.” 

“that’s not a movie.” sabina points out. 

“no, but it’s got david attenborough and the ocean. that makes everyone feel better.” 

“nothing like the terrifying existence of the oceans to make us feel light and fluffy inside.” 

“i always feel light and fluffy inside.” jane deadpans and sabina snorts. 

“of course you do.” she says “what do you want to watch?” sabina asks, turning to you. 

“uh, blue plaent is fine by me.” you shrug. 

“oh come on.” sabina says “you’re gonna side with her?”

“it’s blue planet.” you point out, which in itself should be enough of an explanation. 

“see,” jane says, slipping an arm around your shoulders “this is why you’re going to be on our team.” 

“that’s a terrible reason to have her on our team.” sabina grumbles. 

“just because you don’t appreciate the majesty of david attenborough.” jane replies. 

you follow them through the penthouse, listening to them debate the merits of nature documentaries. it feels shockingly normal, besides the fact that it’s nearly five in the morning and recently multiple people have wanted you dead. maybe normal is good. maybe this kind of new normal is exactly what you need.

**Author's Note:**

> listen, i have a bunch of ideas from this movie - but what caught me the most was that whole bit with the collar. it was such an unnecessary power move and i just wanted to explore the impact it may have had on elena. let me know your thoughts!


End file.
